Freden Efter Ofreden
by Celebnaur
Summary: Pride comes before the fall, and sacrifices are made before peace. However, some people are always there to help you through everything, and those are the ones to be treasured.


AN: Thanks to Hymno for helping me get out of my USUK rut and try out other pairings~ Ugh, first time writing a SuFin fic (and more fluff than what makes me comfortable), hope it came out fine.

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><p>August 30, 1721<p>

Two pairs of icy eyes, one a pale blue and the other an eery violet, continually traded occasional glares. When not showing their displeasure with one another, they would glance at the shuddering body sitting in a chair not to far off in the room.

"So you want him back, out of all your... territories, Sweden?" the heavily accented voice said. Sweden kept his ever permanent glare turned towards the now grinning Russia. Of course he wanted him back, Finland was the only available for reclammation anyway. Russia, along with the help of several other bitter kingdoms from the mainland all took Finland, using him as a means to threaten Sweden into giving up the rest of his imperial territory. He would have loved to have gained all his territory back, but Finland was hurting, the Russian occupation of the land turning his people into slaves. Sweden most definitely wanted Finland out of Russia's grasp.

Finland coughed, his head down-turned and his gaze directed at his own lap.

"Yes, I wan' 'im back." Finland's gaze flickered upwards for a moment before a much more brutal coughing fit overtook him. Russia laughed once and stood up.

"Fine then, and I will receive Ingria?" Russia asked, walking to the desk that bore the treaty. Sweden gave a grunt of affirmation and joined the other nation at gazing at the document that bore intricate writing.

"Our signatures have no say in the matter, but I will be pleased to tell Peter of these conditions..." Russia turned to Sweden, and with the innocent smile that was everpresent, he pat the other man's shoulders and walked out. As Russia left, his greenish-blue uniform swaying slightly, Sweden kept his gaze on the document, his chest feeling less constricted.

Once he was sure that Russia was gone, he walked over to Finland and stared down at him. After a moment of just staring at the taller's boots, Finland brought his gaze upward and laughed once.

"Thank you..." he muttered, tinges of awkwardness in the words. Sweden huffed and leaned over, looping one arm around the much lighter man's torso. With little effort, he pulled him upwards and began exiting the rather dark room. Finland gave almost a sigh of relief once they made it into the hall of the wealthy home. "I feel like no one is watching me anymore..." he said, his mouth still perked into a small smile. Sweden looked at him for only a moment before continuing onwards.

" 's that so?"

Finland hummed. "It was odd... When under Russia, I always felt like he was too close, even if he was in Saint Petersburg or off in the Baltic area." Sweden raised his eyebrows slightly. "Maybe that had to do with the fact that so many of my people are in his land right now..." They both glanced away from one another for a few moments until they arrived at an intricate oak door. Sweden quietly opened it and guided the much weaker man inside and carefully lay him on the somewhat regal bed lying in the room. He sat on the edge next to Finland's legs and just looked at him.

" 're fine now," Sweden muttered, staring with all too attentitive eyes. Finland glanced away, his cheeks reddening slightly. "Still sick?" Finland kept looking off to the side, but nodded gently. Finland coughed, several small splatters of blood landing on the pillow he was facing, causing Sweden stare in concern. When neither of them even commented on the matter, Sweden shifted closer on the bed. Finland flashed his gaze at him and smiled, his eyes quickly turning back away. "Why won't ya'look at me?"

"Aha, what do you mean?" Finland asked, bringing his gaze back. Sweden stared at Finland in worry, the smaller shivering just slightly under the gaze. "I really have become too accustomed to your gaze," Finland mused quietly. He lifted one of his pale hands and placed it tenderly on the other's thigh, the tan fabric not denting at all under the wieght. Sweden looked at the hand for a moment and then back up. Finland was looking away again.

"Finlan'," Sweden said sternly, trying to grab the other's attention. Finland did not respond except in the form of more blood being coughed out. "D'ya need som'thin'?" Finland shook his head slightly, refusing to return eye-contact.

"Thank you, Sweden," he said quietly, a tiny drop of the maroon liquid pouring from the corner of his mouth. Sweden nodded and stood up, slightly hurt at the lack of response. He brushed it off, knowing that the smaller man had been through enough to be tired and sick for weeks. He stopped and turned around when he heard muttering. "Hm?"

"I am sorry," Finland muttered, staring at the little pool of blood that was accumulating by his mouth. Sweden looked at him with invisible disbelief, his face only showing it through slightly raised brows.

"F'r what?"

"For having you go through all that trouble... just because I made a mistake." Sweden carefully walked back to the edge of the bed and looked down at his bruised companion.

"M'stake?"

"For thinking I would be fine with my own military... That I did not need your help." He coughed, much more weakly than the last times, as if he could no longer take the breath needed to clear one's chest. Sweden, to his best extent, sat carefully beside the other.

"And then you gave away all you gained in your imperialism just to save me-" His words were interrupted again, the blood now making a rather intricate pattern on the pillow. "B-but, I just sat there doing nothing as my people were put into slavery and Russia burned your cities. I just sat there-" The blood was now a fine spray.

Once he finished his exertion, Sweden grabbed his shoulders and quickly pulled him upwards, burying the shorter man's face into his own shoulder. Sweden cringed to some degree, his stoic expression still overpowering any emotion. He loosened his grip a little when he felt warm liquid pressing through his miltary suit, knowing Finland needed to be able to inhale vast amounts to cough. When Finland pulled completely back, Sweden nitted his eyebrows in curiosity at the sight of not only the smudges of red by his mouth, but the translucent trails below his eyes.

Although failing at showing it, Sweden felt mild twinges of pity for the pain the other was feeling. He knew that Finland was not one to often cry, that at times he was more emotionally sound than himself, but pain and suffering could often bring many to their knees. With that small little thought, he pressed Finland back into his chest.

"My people are in slavery, my economy is in shreds, and my military is nonexistent..." Finland muttered, his voice obstructed by the uniform. He inhaled sharply and pushed upwards more so that his head was resting on the larger man's shoulder. Feeling somewhat awkward, Sweden decided to just rock him slightly, knowing this as the only way to provide physical comfort. Ragged breathing filled his ears.

" 'm still 'ere," Sweden said after a moment. Finland's breathing stilled and he froze in the hold. Finland grinned against his shoulder, moving his chest to match up with the swaying pattern he was being subject to. He turned his head so he was now staring into Sweden's neck.

"I know... And you have been... Which is why I am sorry I caused so much trouble." Finland feebly lifted his head and softly kissed the other on his cheek. He let his head collapse back on the shoulder.

"If Russia takes ov'r y'again-"

"You'll be there, I know..."

Sweden breathed through his nose, almost a content snicker. He tightened his hold around the other and shifted slightly, enjoying the feeling of the breath on his neck.

"I'll b'there t'help..." he finished, happy that even after all the loss, one person remained.


End file.
